Unreachable
by Danyu
Summary: 1x2. In the ruins of a crumbling relationship, can they start again, or is it all just unreachable? Rated for language and fairly graphic sexual content. ONESHOT.


"Dammit, Duo, why are you always doing shit like this?!!"

"Maybe if you weren't such a fucking asshole all the time!"

The argument had escalated quickly and violently as a tornado tearing down onto the ground, sparking from a bickering no one could remember the reason for. A crowd had long since gathered around them, though the spectators chose to keep a safe distance given Duo's habit for wild gesticulation and the glazed look of barely restrained fury in Heero's eyes.

Quatre stood among them, his face pale and wrought as he worried his lip with obvious concern. The fighting pair had long since stopped heeding his pleadings for them to calm down and try to talk it out instead of roaring at each other. Trowa was beside his lover, an arm around the latter's shoulders, his irritation increasing tenfold with every moment Quatre continued to radiate growing anxiety.

Finally, he caught Wufei's eye and both men nodded with unspoken understanding, moving simultaneously toward the arguing men, Trowa toward Heero, Wufei to Duo. They then proceeded to drag the violently protesting duo toward the back entrance, tossing them both out into the alley behind the club.

Wufei shot them disgusted, disapproving looks as both men dusted themselves off, picking themselves off the ground, but he held his peace and went back inside. Trowa, however, was seething.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?! You're acting like children! Stay out here and roar at each other if that's what you need to do, I've had enough!"

The level of vehemence exhibited by the usually soft-spoken man rendered them both stunned after Trowa stomped away, the door slamming shut behind him, the sharp noise resounding through the alleyway.

Heero exhaled sharply, rubbing his fingers against temples beginning to throb with the definitive pain of a growing headache. "Wonderful," he murmured viciously, "Fucking wonderful."

Duo snorted, his lips curling into a sardonic kind of smirk. "Who are you to talk?" he hissed, "Self-righteous jackass."

Heero's face contorted into an enraged expression, reaching up in a flurry of motion to grab Duo's arm and slammed him against the side of the building. Duo bit his lip to keep from crying out as he collided with the concrete of the wall, joined a moment later by Heero's body pressing close to him, and this time, it was another reason why he restrained from making a sound. In spite of everything, the man still felt so damn good.

"Ow, Heero, what the fuck are you doing?" he snapped, trying not to notice the defined pressure of Heero's arousal against his thigh.

Heero leaned down, his face inches from Duo's, his breath heavy and panting, hot against Duo's skin. "Jackass you call me," Heero murmured, "Which one of us is the bigger jackass? But you're right, who am I to talk? Words have never worked between us, only this." And with that, he cupped his hand over Duo's straining cock, giving it a hard squeeze.

This time, Duo couldn't hold back a loud, throaty moan as the stirring of arousal that came with Heero's proximity turned into a full-out hard-on at his touch. Duo whimpered low in his throat, bucking his hips against Heero's hand, and Heero gave him another squeeze before withdrawing.

Heero pressed even closer, rubbing their erections together, and even through the rough fabric of their jeans, the intimate contact still elicited a strangled cry from his partner. With the his blood roaring in his ears and erratic pulses of lust and pleasure rolling through his body, Heero pushed forward, his lips colliding with Duo's.

He buried one hand in the thick hair escaping from his lover's braid, tilting back Duo's head to deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue into the other's mouth, a shiver of pure ecstasy running down his spine as Duo returned the kiss with equal fervor. With his free hand, he tore at the restraints of Duo's pants, and the braided man complied without resistance, allowing the trousers to be slid down and off. His own fingers fumblingly worked at the zipper on Heero's jeans, and he worked open the button, his hands finally meeting the hard flesh of Heero's cock.

Never breaking the kiss, Heero's hands wrapped around his legs, lifting him, leaning him back against the wall. Duo's body tensed as cold fingers prodded his entrance, expertly stretching him, but he found himself distracted by Heero's mouth at his neck, nipping his way down the slender column of his neck, a red trail of love bites blossoming against pale skin.

Heero forcefully entered him, slamming them both against the wall, and Duo hooked his legs around Heero's waist, arching against the other man with every deep stroke as Heero moved inside him. He screamed unabashedly as every strong, powerful thrust sent them crashing into rough concrete, his fingers digging into Heero's shoulders, feeling the reverberating tension in the muscles beneath his touch, the taste of salt against the flesh beneath his lips and tongue a vague sensation in the fog of pleasure.

Together, they rode out the waves of pain and pleasure, Heero's deep baritone, hoarse with uninhibited passion, joined his as he roared out his satisfaction, his hips moving feverishly against Duo's as they moved against each other, but somehow seemed to move together as they raced faster and faster toward climax.

Heero's hand wrapped around Duo's strained erection, and he pumped in rhythm with his thrusts, the pace frantic now, the air punctuated with every move by their grunts and moans of building pleasure. The final culmination came harsh and unyielding, like a crash of thunder in a storm, a splash of cold water in a drought, their bodies arching and straining under the force of their simultaneous orgasms.

Spiraling back down to reality, Duo fell back limply and Heero with him, their bodies shaking and both panting with baited breath as their hammered in twin cadence like the reverberation of a ritualistic drum. Duo's vision was clouded and hazy as he stared out into the opaque night surrounding them with hooded eyes, his gaze straying to the mark on Heero's neck. He traced his finger over it, mildly surprised to find the indentation of his own teeth.

"Duo," Heero whispered, his hands gliding up his lover's back, his touch gentler now, soothing in a way had Duo not been suddenly, and fully, aware of their earlier circumstances.

"Yeah?"

"What happened to us? How did we end up like this?"

"I don't know," Duo replied candidly, his fingers entangling through the fine hair at Heero's nape, curling slightly in its sweat-damp state, "Honestly, I don't know." He sighed, letting his hands drop from Heero as he felt the other man soften inside him, letting him to his feet. He did not glance at his partner as he worked back up his boxers and pants, hearing the tell-tale sound of a zipper being done up.

He felt the familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder, and he suddenly felt so tired…too tired to fight anymore, too tired to push Heero away. Instead, he let his head fall back, taking in the endless expanse of the star-streaked sky. "You and me, y'know, it's the stars. You and me, the way we used to be, it's as unreachable as them. You can take a ship or a mobile suit as far above the hemisphere as you want, but you'll never be able to hold one in your hands like the jewels they seem." He scoffed softly, surprised at himself, and he kicked at the dirt, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Ah, well, hell, if that philosophical shit isn't anything like me, I don't know what is."

"Maybe you're right," Heero's rich baritone voice told him, "Maybe what we used to be is unattainable now. Maybe…just maybe…that means that we're meant to start something new, something even better."

Duo closed his eyes, unable to squelch the flash of hope that welled up in him. Lust and love, passion and anger, it had all flared between them since first meeting, but did they have in them to try again, try and rebuild what had been crumbling for nearly a year? Could they start over and make something even more amazing then their initial affair?

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes," and the hint of arrogant confidence coloring Heero's tone was oddly comforting in its familiarity, "I think so."

"Good," Duo replied, turning around to face his partner with a flash of his old smile tugging at his lips, "Cause I'm game if you are."

Heero smiled back, allowing himself to be tugged forward as Duo grabbed his collar and kissed him, sweet if far from chaste, a cementing promise between them to try again, try harder, and make it forever this time.

"Do you have your keys to the bike?" Duo muttered as they parted, "Or did Quatre confiscate them?"

Heero's brow furrowed with thought as he fished the keys out of his pocket, holding them up to Duo's eye level. "I have them. He knows I wasn't going to drink tonight. Why do you ask?"

A light of mischief in his smile, Duo cast a look with something that could only be described as bedroom eyes, tugging insistently on his hand as he began the walk out of the alleyway and toward the place where they had parked their shared motorcycle. "There's no way I'm take a cab with a wet spot like this on my pants. Besides," and his voice dropped, taking on a seductive edge, "The more we linger, the more we miss out on the best part."

"Best part of what?"

"The makeup sex."

Heero swallowed hard; trying to forget about the sudden tightening in his loins long enough to walk straight. Given the prospect of a naked Duo and a soft bed, he dallied no longer as he ran after the retreated form of his lover, taking the opportunity to admire a well-rounded ass and swaying hips.


End file.
